A Sense of You
by SoloWing
Summary: Written for Xirysa's 'Five Senses' challenge. Complete with all five senses. Kent Lyn, Florina Sain, Fa The World, Guy Priscilla, Raven Rebecca
1. Sight

Author's Note: Written for Xirysa's five sense challenge.

Sense One: Sight

**_--Begin--_**

She had never despised anything quite so much as this infernal darkness.

Desperate, she turned an imploring look at the staff within her hands, and tried to will it to produce more than the faint glow that surrounded its jeweled tip. But the stave's power was fading, and with its power went the ability to produce light in the midst of this gloom.

She suppressed a very uncharacteristic huff and renewed her efforts to coax more light from the Torch Stave and to pierce this rotten, foggy gloom that surrounded her.

It felt unnatural to be out here on foot, to be in the midst of this smoggy night without her mount. She could have covered much more ground much more if she used her horse, but Rhys had taken a beating in that final battle and deserved his rest.

But rest would be denied her until she found her answers.

Priscilla cast her gaze about the desolation that surrounded her and strained to see her surroundings. The carnage and aftermath of the battle lay on all sides of her, offering mute testimony to the battle that had been fought on this land. Never before had she been witness to such brutality, and she desperately hoped that this would be the end of their champagne. Just as she wished that he had survived.

Priscilla took another, cautious, step forward. The marshy ground buckled under her weight, and squelched as if angry at her presence. The girl looked down, not at the ground below, but at those who had fallen.

A pair of sightless eyes stared back at her from the deceased Morph who lay at her feet. A shudder ripped down Priscilla's spine, drawing a startled gasp from her throat. No matter how many Morphs she saw, she could not help but be taken aback by them each time. There was something about their glowing yellow eyes and jet-black hair that was unnatural in an evil way.

But this Morph was not the object of her search, Priscilla was not here to worry about those that the Elite, Horde and Legion had slain. Those did not matter to her.

The red-haired Valkyrie looked up and squinted into the foggy night. The path only grew more tangled as she moved forward, both in plant and marsh life and in the numbers of the fallen. Priscilla reminded herself why she was here, and pushed herself onward. She gingerly put one foot forward, and tried to tame her rebellious stomach.

The object of her consternation was in one simple fact: the only way she could move forward would be to nudge a fallen Morph out of her way. Priscilla reminded herself about her mission, and steeled herself as she gingerly nudged the corpse aside with her foot. Then she moved forward one single pace and looked about her again.

A dead General and a fallen Pegasus Knight lay on either side of her. Priscilla did her best to ignore the dead stares that they were sending her and tried to look past them. She hated these sights, she hated the way the dead looked at her. The fallen Morphs accused her and her comrades of all the killing they had performed, and cast contentious looks upon her as if condemning their hypocrisy.

The girl hastily shook her head, causing her red hair to fly about wildly. She needed to clear her mind, to fling those thoughts from her brain. What was done was done, and she would have to endure.

Priscilla didn't care for the sight of these fallen. They could not affect her, she had to remember that.

The girl couldn't help but feel a touch uneasy as she shuffled forward another pace. Why had she allowed them to separate in the first place? Why had she accepted his half-baked idea that he could draw of the Morph forces and allow her to escape their onslaught? This had been a crucial fight, a brutal war. They should have stayed together at all costs, no matter what. Now she was lost and alone.

She desperately needed to find him, to put her mind at ease. She had been tormented since he left of things that could have gone wrong, things that might have happened. He was good with a blade, that was true. But was he good enough to stand alone against an army of these unfeeling things?

She didn't know that answer, and until she found one she could not rest.

The Valkyrie forced herself to go on and to take another step forward. Another pair of golden eyes came into the light and drilled a dead man's stare at her. Priscilla looked down at the fallen Morph Mercenary and breathed a silent prayer of thanks that it was not the object of her search. She didn't care how many Morphs she had to look at- she didn't fear their sight. There was only one sight that she was afraid of.

In this field of the dead and dieing, she didn't want to see Guy. She loved him too much. If he had died in this combat, then there was no telling what shape his body would be in. She didn't want to see him desecrated or destroyed. She wanted to see him alive.

The red-haired Valkyrie hesitated. There was something just peeking into her little bubble of light in this dirty sea of night. It glittered in the light from her Torch.

Priscilla stared at it and felt a surge of panic in her chest. She recognized that thing. Its curved blade and gleaming edge was something that she was far familiar with. It was the blade of Guy's Killing Edge- the sword that he never let leave his side. Guy would never have abandoned that blade, ever.

Memories of their first few days together welled up against her will. She could remember how Guy had been playing with the Killing Edge as if he were a child enjoying a new toy. She remembered how fearful she had been at first that he would injure himself somehow, and how Guy had continued messing with his sword until they had received new orders to move out. The Sacean Swordsman hadn't harmed himself at all, against all odds. It just showed how familiar he was with the weapon.

He would never have just left it carelessly in the dirt.

Caution was abandoned as Priscilla darted forward. She winced as her boot came down on something soft and firm, signaling that she hadn't stepped on the ground. She ignored the unease she felt and frantically tried to will some more light from her staff as her sphere of illumination pushed back the shadows around the Killing Edge.

Priscilla couldn't help but plead again that Guy would be alright, that he would have survived. She was frantically praying that his death would not be one sight she would have to see.

Finally, she was able to see everything. Her heart slowed.

The sword lay on the ground in two pieces. A mercenary lay next to the Killing Edge. His hair was as black as a raven's feathers.

Relief flooded through Priscilla. The Edge must have broken during the battle and Guy must have had to abandon it. There was no time for sentimentality towards objects on the battlefield, and one would have to have been a fool to risk one's life for a possession.

She didn't know how to react to that sight. The fact that it was not Guy lying next to the weapon was a source of some relief, but the fact that his prized sword lay on the ground meant that he had been out on the battlefield for some time unarmed. That was cause for concern.

Somewhat relieved and extremely concerned, Priscilla straightened and looked around. She was shocked to discover how close she was to the Elite's camp. In the time that had felt like an eternity, she had only moved forward a handful of steps. Now that she was paying attention, she could even hear Wil's voice being carried across the winds.

At the rate she was moving, she would be out here all night.

The thought sent another shiver up Priscilla's spine. She hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

The Valkyrie moved forward hesitantly, ignoring the looks and stares of the Morphs around her. It was unnerving, but something that she could overcome.

Of more concern to her was Guy's situation. If he had been weaponless on this battlefield, then there was no telling what had happened to him. Guy was extremely fast, and almost impossible to see or hit once he got going, but that meant nothing against these inhuman opponents. The Morphs were the ultimate fighters- they were all faster, stronger, and more cunning than any being had a right to be. And their inability to feel pain or emotion made them that much more deadly. It was all they could do to defeat the Morphs as a group, alone and defenseless there wouldn't be much chance.

An image of Guy, broken and dead on the battlefield came to her, and it was all Priscilla could do to force the thought away. She didn't know whether Guy was alive or dead, but she wouldn't rest until she did know. She just knew that she didn't want to see him if he were dead.

A sharp cry burst from the night, it was immediately followed by a sharp shriek from Priscilla's throat. Slowly, her heart began to calm, as did her breathing, once she realized that she had only heard the cry of a raven. It wasn't the scream of a dieing or wounded man, but the cry of a bird.

In the wake of that experience, Priscilla hesitated, feeling more than a touch concerned. Was this an omen? A raven was supposed to signify death or destruction. Was that what she was going to discover? Guy's death?

No, they had just overcome impossible odds to change their destiny, she could not blindly assume anything. She shook her head again, trying to block out this strange fear and hesitation that had come over her. Nergal was gone, dead... so why was this place making her so fearful? Why was she so afraid that Guy had perished while they were separated?

Another cry rent the air, and this time Priscilla's blood froze in her veins. That had not been the shout of an animal, nor that of a human. It was something that very few heard, but were incapable of forgetting. That was the twisted, shrieking scream of imitation vocal cords and a voice without emotion, purpose or will. That was the cry of a Morph.

Something moved behind her. Some sort of six sense, developed and honed in battle, warned her that something very bad was out there.

Priscilla broke free of her trance through sheer force of will and hurled herself to one side. Her move came just in time, and allowed her to clear the sudden swipe of an axe without injury. The Valkyrie crashed to the marshy ground, and scrambled to find enough purchase on the waterlogged land to control her tumble. Eventually, she came out of her slide and looked up to find a Morph fighter standing over her, with his axe raised high and his eyes emotionless.

As she frantically tried to form a basic fire spell, Priscilla struggled to escape from her attacker. The wet ground slowed her down and the twisted foliage grabbed at her clothing and hands, rendering her unable to move as quickly as she would have preferred. Finally, her spell came together and she was able to launch a blazing sphere of fire at her would-be assassin.

Her fireball, launched half on instinct and half by sight, went wide. The Morph didn't even have to try to dodge it. The abomination took one large step forward, positioning himself before his hapless target, and raised his axe high...

Another cry split the air.

This time it was the cry of a human- a decidedly angry human. A blur of blue motion sped through the air and lashed out with savage intensity. So quickly did this newcomer come and go than it appeared as if there were multiple copies of the same being trailing along in a long line.

The blue blur shot up to the Morph fighter and struck. The fighter didn't even have a chance to respond as he was deftly overpowered. Within a minute, the inhuman abomination crashed to the ground and lay still.

Only then did the newcomer slow enough to reconstitute into the familiar form of a Sacean with uncharacteristically wide eyes and a trail of long green hair.

For a long moment, nobody dared to move.

Then the man broke the stillness. He breathed a ragged sigh of relief and looked around with half-crazed eyes, indicative of a man who has just fought for his life- and barely retained it.

"Guy." Priscilla felt the proverbial wight roll from her shoulders, leaving her free of her crushing concerns. Guy was alive and doing well enough to be standing. Her fears had been entirely unfounded.

It was the best sight she could have ever seen, and she breathed a quick prayer of thanks for being able to witness it.

A sense of calmness settled upon the young Swordmaster, and the crazed gleam in Guy's eyes vanished as his regular boyishness returned. He was no longer fighting to live, the danger was over... and he could relax.

"Priscilla..." Guy seemed surprised, as if he'd only just recognized her presence. "I, uh, didn't scare you, did I?"

"Oh no." Priscilla felt a small smile creeping across her lips. "Its just... you're such a very good sight for sore eyes."

"Huh? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just... glad to see you."

The rest of her statement could go unsaid. She was very glad to see Guy alive and well, this was a sight she would treasure for the rest of her life.

**_--Fin--_**

A.N.: Well, there she be. I'm not entirely sure what to make of this puppy since I've never written Guy or Priscilla before, nor have I ever seriously considered their characters. Guy kinda has this 'I have a crush on you but can't admit it' thing going and Priscilla's a little tenacious about hounding him about it so... hopefully they weren't too out of character.

I'm not entirely sure why, but while working on another fic, ideas for all five senses just popped into my head from nowhere. So I'm going to try to get them written out fairly quickly.


	2. Hearing

Author's Notes: For those who have asked, the sense of smell is currently proving problematice for me while the other senses already have outlines and pairings attached to them.

**_Begin_**

It was a guilty joy that ran down Fa's spine, but it was joy nonetheless. She was finally going to leave Arcadia behind, to see the Outside World. She just had to do it quickly, before any of the elders found the note she had left them.

The young dragon knew that she shouldn't leave the safety of Arcadia without her guardian's permission, but she'd been waiting for her chance to leave these walls for years. Now she had a chance to do it and people to travel with- it was too good an opportunity to pass up!

Fa took one last look over her shoulder, realized that no one was following her, and then ran for all she was worth. The dark-haired dragon slipped through the city gates, leaving Nabata far behind, and vanished into the swirling sandstorm that perpetually covered the Nabata desert. She left the safety of Arcadia behind and struck out for the Outside World on the other side of the desert.

She ran for a long time.

After a while, Fa's legs began to hurt from running so hard. The girl slowed to a walk and took a look around. She was surprised to realize that she was still somewhere in the desert. Sandy dunes and swirling dust surrounded her from every angle. It was very strange, maybe The Outside World was farther away than she thought? It must be a very big Outside World if it was so far away- she'd been running for hours.

Fa felt a smile forming on her lips. It didn't matter how far away it was, she was finally going to see that Outside World! Everyone in Arcadia knew that Fa wanted to escape the confining city, but few knew why. That was a secret that Fa had carefully guarded for many, many, many, many years. It was her little secret and she'd never tell anyone else!

It had all started long ago when two strangers had arrived in Arcadia. That was special! It was something that never happened. Fa had been around for a long time, but she'd never seen anyone new come to Arcadia.

It was a man and a woman who had come to visit Arcadia, and they were very strange people. Fa knew that there were dragons, which was what she was, and that there were humans. She lived with both of them in Arcadia, so she didn't think that the man and woman were strange because they couldn't grow tails, feathers and wings. They were strange because they talked and acted funny. They acted so funny that even ArchSage Athos would laugh at them- and Fa had never seen him laugh before!

Sometimes the man would run his hand over the woman's yellow hair and say that she looked beautiful. Then the woman would blush and say something about the man being something-that-Fa-couldn't-pronounce. Then Athos would laugh- they were funny people.

But these people had to have come from somewhere. When Fa asked where they came from, the elders simply said 'The Outside World'. The problem was that Fa didn't know what 'The Outside World' was. So she'd asked about it. The elders didn't like that question.

So Fa went to the funny man and woman and asked them what The Outside World was. The woman had told her about a lot of things; about something called 'Rabbits' and something called 'Birds' that flew over 'Mountains'. Then they talked about this thing called 'Storms' that dropped 'Rain' instead of Sand and then about 'Snow' which was kind of like 'White Rice', although if they were alike then Fa didn't think she'd like this 'Snow' at all. She hated Rice.

It didn't matter how much they talked about it, though. Fa had no idea what any of these things were supposed to be. If it didn't involve Sand, then she didn't know what it was.

Fa wanted to see all these things that she had heard talked about. She wanted to see just how tall a 'Mountain' was and just how low a 'Valley' was supposed to be. It didn't matter how you described it, Fa just couldn't imagine it from words alone.

But that was only part of the reason that Fa wanted to see The Outside World so bad.

The man with silver hair and the woman with yellow hair were funny, but they weren't the only other funny people. Shortly after the funny man and woman came to Arcadia, more people arrived. Some were funny and some were scary. There was the man with red hair who talked funny to this lady with green hair. There was also this pretty lady with sharp eyes who argued with a giant most of the time. The giant was a very funny man who would bluster and shout. Fa never got tired of watching the giant's face turn red. He was very funny.

All of these people were odd. But they were funny to certain other people and they seemed to like being funny.

And something about that made Fa... feel weird. Watching all the funny people act funny made Fa want someone to act funny with her. She wanted people to play with her, yes; but she really wanted someone who would be funny to her.

Fa wanted someone to stroke her hair and tell her that she was pretty. She wanted to be able to say something funny to a man that would make the ArchSage Athos laugh.

The silver-haired man and the yellow-haired lady were always being funny. She was always hearing them talk about things. Sometimes she heard them say that they only needed each other, or that the pale-haired lady would follow the silver-haired man all over The Outside World. Fa always had to work hard to avoid laughing when she heard them talking all funny. It was weird.

Then there was the green-haired lady and the blue-haired man. Fa liked hearing them pretend to be angry with each other and make up funny insults. Fa also liked listening to them pick out everything that the other did wrong and pretend that they couldn't stand it. They were really funny; really weird.

But the green lady and the blue man didn't act the same way that the green lady and the red-haired man who sat on a horse did. It was always strange to listen to them after the green lady and the blue man got done pestering each other. Fa found it strange how the green lady could be fighting with the blue man one minute, and then turn around and act all... weird... around the red man. She remembered hearing the green lady talk to the red man and how neither of them seemed to really understand how to be relaxed around the other. It wasn't fun listening to them talk. It was awkward. Fa felt awkward talking to them. Fa imagined that they felt awkward talking to each other.

But the red-haired man in blue clothes and the teal-haired lady were really 'cute' together. Fa remembered the yellow-haired man saying that. Fa didn't know what 'cute' was, but the yellow man looked like he knew what he was talking about, so she figured that it must be true.

Fa liked the teal lady; there was something really familiar about her. But she didn't know what. She smelled like a human, but there was something about her that seemed... odd...

Whenever she listened to the teal lady and the blue man, she couldn't help but feel fuzzy inside. At first, Fa had worried that hearing the two talk was giving her a cold, but that hadn't been the case. The teal lady liked the blue man, and their words weren't as funny as the silver man and yellow lady's, Fa remembered that their words sounded more 'cute' than the others. And that made her feel all funny inside.

But the funniest thing Fa could remember hearing were the words between the blue man and the girl with funny hair. The girl's hair wasn't really blue, but it wasn't really purple either. Fa didn't know what color it was, but it was somewhere between blue and purple. She had always liked listening to those two, they were the funniest of all the people who had come to Arcadia.

The girl would walk up behind the blue man and act like she was talking, but no words would come out of her mouth. Instead the girl would squeak and whimper. The girl would then act more and more nervous. Then the blue man would turn around and look at the girl, and the girl would just run away. Fa always fell over laughing when the two tried to talk. It was funny that the funniest people never really said anything.

Fa had assumed that they were playing a game or something. So one time after the girl had finished running away, Fa decided to join them. She had slipped up behind the blue man with the axe and started moving her mouth without speaking. After a few minutes Fa had a hard time not laughing, because the blue man hadn't noticed her yet. Finally, the blue man heard her and turned around- which caused Fa to laugh really hard and run away as fast she could. For some reason, her face had turned really, really red as she ran away. Fa didn't know why.

The blue-haired man had jumped really high and started talking really loud and fast about how now every 'blasted, fickle female was out to mess with his head'. Fa had fallen over laughing after hearing that.

Fa had really liked hearing all the ways that these funny people talked to each other. But she couldn't help but feel... sad... too. Fa really wanted someone to be funny with her, or to treat her in funny ways. She felt all alone that she had no one to be funny with her.

So that was why Fa had left. Fa wanted someone to be funny, so Fa would just go out into 'The Outside World' and find someone. The Outside World was a really big place, she was sure of that since the desert was pretty big and she hadn't even found the end of the desert yet. So surely someone in The Outside World there would be a person who found her funny. She'd just have to find her funny person.

And then she wouldn't have to settle for just listening to the funny people. She could be a funny person.

**_End_**

A.N.: Fa proved both fun and awkward to right; from what I've seen, she's ridiculously simple minded but pretty sharp on the uptake when she wants to be. Finding a balance of that was slightly difficult.


	3. Touch

_**Begin**_

This wasn't who she was. This wasn't who she was supposed to be.

She was Florina: meek, timid, shy, scared of men. She most certainly would not be standing her, mere feet away from the most disreputable man in their company. She most certainly should be running for her very life right now.

Yet, for some reason, she couldn't. She just stood quietly.

She couldn't help but look him over, all the while being careful to avoid his eyes. His hair was a sandy brown and framed his lazy grin perfectly. His posture suggested that he wasn't at all concerned with the battles that could break out at a moment's notice. Sain was standing there, much too close for Florina's comfort.

How had it come to this? Sain had never pursued her. At least, not in the manner that he normally did. After their initial encounter and reprimand, they had hardly ever spoken, except for quick pleasantries, greetings and the exchange of weapons. Somewhere down the line, those hurried words had turned into full sentences; then from sentences they had slowly become conversations; then from conversations to time spent together. They had never expected anything to blossom between them, and yet it had.

Now, Sain had invaded her thoughts, her very life. Florina had secretly been looking forward to the time that they would spend together. More than once she'd caught herself thinking about the green knight at the worst possible moments. Many times she had fallen asleep wondering what his response to some news or order would be. She seemed to be infected with him, and could scarcely concentrate on anything else.

And now, here she stood opposite Sain- on the brink of having to make the most difficult decision of her life. Sain had just asked for the privilege of courting her. Florina had never imagined herself being placed in such a position. Oh, she had secretly hoped and wished that someone would eventually notice her; but with her fears she'd scarcely dared believe that it was possible.

Yet here she was.

Was Sain serious? Was it possible that he was sincere in this? Sain had a reputation of a womanizer, someone who would hit upon any pretty girl. Yet this was a first, to Florina's limited knowledge. The sandy-haired knight had never abandoned his lush, romantic phrases and come straight out with such a request. He had _asked_ if he could pursue her instead of just attempting it.

"Well, my dear Florina..." Sain spoke slowly. "... what do you say?"

That was another first. The normal pomp and bravado that normally filled the knight's voice was gone, leaving him sounding hesitant and vulnerable. It was as if he had opened a doorway, exposed some weak point, and allowed her the opportunity to destroy him if she desired.

The lavender-haired girl held no such desire to harm her companion- physically or emotionally. She, too, felt just as uncertain at this moment. This was a decision that could potentially change her entire life. She had to be sure. She had to know for certain that these sentiments were true.

"I- I don't... I can't..." A tremble worked its way up the Illian's arm, matching the hesitation in her voice, and baring her nervousness even moreso. "Sain... I... I need... to know the truth."

"The truth?" Sain repeated quietly. "The truth is that I care for you deeply, Florina. And given time, I'd like to know if it could turn into love."

That was another unusual turn of events, Florina realized. Never before had the green knight admitted that he didn't love a female- normally he was quick to claim the opposite. Could it really be that for the first time he earnestly meant what he said?

"Y-yes... I... feel the same." The lavender-haired girl admitted as her gaze remained firmly fixed upon her boots. "At least, I- I think I do... But, Sain, I... need to know... that you mean that. You flirt with every woman. How do I know that you aren't just... doing the same with me?"

"Florina!" Genuine horror inflicted Sain's voice while his expression contorted into one of emotional pain. "I- I had hoped that... you mean... after all this time you don't know me?"

"Sain, I need to _know._"

The green knight slowly calmed. His face relaxed and his words slowed, although his eyes retained some measure of hurt.

"I suppose that... is a fair question." The sandy-haired man admitted with a deep sigh. He remained quiet for several long moments, leaving the girl's request hanging in the air.

At length, Sain spoke again.

"Alright, I think that I can prove my honesty and sincerity, provided that you will allow me to."

A puzzled expression passed over Florina's face. What was he talking about? What was he planning on doing? Was it that... insidious that he had to cover his tracks beforehand?

Slowly, bewilderedly, the girl with lavender hair nodded. She would allow him one chance to prove his position to her. If things became too endangering, then she would walk away and leave him alone.

"Very well then." A hesitation manifested itself into Sain's voice, giving it a very uncharacteristic crack. "And I assure you that my following actions are all honorable and above board... please, don't assume otherwise."

Florina's eyes widened as she continued to stare at the ground.

"... I'm sorry."

That statement pierced the fog that had settled about the girl's mind. Something was very wrong; she could feel it in the air, in his manner. Whatever was going to happen, she knew that it couldn't end well.

Then she felt a gentle pressure along the right side of her face. The sensation was provided by something warm and soft.

Florina blinked once, twice, and then realized what was happening: Sain was touching her cheek.

_Sain_ was touching _her_.

An icicle of fear raced up her spine, freezing her in place. Florina's mind screamed at her to recoil, to shrink away, to turn tail and run as fast as she possibly could to escape this situation. But she found herself entirely unable to move, unable to turn away. Her arms began to tremble and shake with fear as she realized just how close she was to a male. Never before had she been placed in such a situation. She didn't know what to make of it.

Warmth began to build beneath the skin of Florina's cheek beneath the green knight's gentle touch. She willed herself to ignore the sensation, to ignore the caress, but her mind was too fixated on the sensation to heed her command. It was as if she were trapped, unable to break free of this strange embrace.

The pressure shifted and changed as Sain's touch drifted down the side of her face, trailed by a ribbon of heat. Only then did Florina realize that she was blushing.

The knight's touch flittered down to the Illian's throat, where it ceased to move. Slowly, Sain cupped his hand beneath Florina's chin and gently brought her head up so that he could meet her gaze. Their eyes locked, prompting Florina to, as cliché as it sounded, realize just how warm his eyes could be.

"Florina." Sain's voice came out as scant more than a whisper. "I've never before laid a hand upon a woman, for any reason. But tonight I have, and I simply did so to tell you this. I care for you.

"I'm not in love with your fair appearance, although think that you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met. I realize that I have a reputation for only thinking of beauty; but please be assured that, with you, beauty does not even enter into my reasoning. I am in love with the beauty extends below the skin, to the Florina beneath.

"Florina, I... I love _you._ I love your compassion, your strength, your grace. You are a marvelous person, and it is that which I love- not your fine locks, your radiant eyes, or gentle features. I love you for who you are, not who you appear to be."

Florina's eyes began to mist, an action that somehow freed her from her trance. The girl blinked hard to keep the tears at bay, and then finally managed to find her voice again.

"I... I-"

The touch of the green knight's finger to her lips silenced her words. Another patch of fire ignited beneath the Illian's skin. Under any other circumstance, she might have broken down into a sobbing wreck, but for some reason... his touch was the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced. She wanted it to last forever.

"Please, let me finish." Sain whispered. His eyes never strayed from Florina's, and he seemed to be lost within the depths of her very being.

"At first, it was your beauty that drew my eye- but it was you who drew my love. Florina, I- I want to be with you come what may. No matter where this wretched war takes us, I wish to be by your side. The care and compassion that you extend to others shames me and inspires me to do better. You have a quiet strength which serves to carry you onward in the face of the most difficult circumstance. You're one of the most observant people I have ever known, and you use that ability to aid others. I love it all, Florina. I love everything that makes you you.

"I don't have much to offer you in return. I'm believed to be a scoundrel, a monster. People speak my name as though it were synonymous with 'fool'. I am considered nothing more than a foolish, disrespectful man with no sense of responsibility. But I promise you this, Florina. If you will have me, I will do everything in my power to honor and care for you; I will do whatever it takes to provide for you and make you happy. I'll do whatever is possible to make that happen.

"I don't know what the future holds, but I do want to be by your side... if you will only allow me to be there."

The remained there for a long time, neither one of them willing to break the emotion of the moment.

Florina was dumbstruck. She had never believed Sain could have felt that way; that he would have been as genuine and selfless with his feelings as he had just been. She had also never believed that she could enjoy a man's touch as much as she was. The rough texture of Sain's fingers against her chin and the cool feeling of his skin against hers was amazingly wonderful. For that brief moment, she was certain that she had experienced a taste of pure joy.

"F-forgive me."

Sain slowly pulled away, stepping back to a respectful distance. Florina wanted to protest, to cry out, as the simple feeling of his touch vanished. She wanted it to last forever- at the very least she didn't want it to end so soon.

"I have been too froward." The green knight admitted.

"No, Sain... I-I think you were fine." Florina slowly, hesitantly, reached out and took the man's hand in her own. Again, she was struck by how wonderful his simple touch felt. "And I- I care for you too...

"I'd like to learn to love you as well."

_**End**_

_  
A.N.: Another sense down, two more to go. This chapter was a strange beast. It originally started off as Sain/Fiora but quickly evolved into Sain/Florina, and underwent more than one revision since everyone seems to get really quirky thoughts when you say 'Sain' and 'touch' in the same sentence._


	4. Scent

A.N.: Ask and ye shall receive a Kent/Lyndis chapter. A special thanks goes to Talren for providing the inspiration for this one.

_**Begin**_

Something wasn't right, but Kent was thoroughly unable to discover what.

The red knight of Caelin quickly cast his gaze over the room. Nothing looked out of place. The tapestries and ornaments were still in their proper places and showed no signs of having been tampered with. The servants were going about their business without any hint or sign of a dawdle. His soldiers were at attention and performing their duties well; the Lady Lyndis... correction: _Lyn _looked thoroughly miserable within the confines of Lycian formal dress (an expression that Kent knew would vanish the moment that the other nobles appeared). Everything seemed to be normal within the Caelin throne room.

Perhaps he was still on edge from the Black Fang Wars. Now that their struggles against Nergal had ended, he did not have to be as wary as he formerly was. There was no shadowy group waiting to ambush them at every town, nor was there any fear of Nergal suddenly deciding to rain morphs down upon them. Everyone's focus had moved from the military threat of Nergal to handling the political fallout of their recent adventures. Maybe he was still thinking too much like a warhorse instead of a guardian.

The red-haired knight willed himself to still, to find peace with their current situation.

He failed. This was no figment of his imagination, there was something very wrong with the throne room.

Kent studied the room again, visually checking every trinket, object, servant and guard within the vicinity. His studies yielded little fruit and failed to point him towards the source of his consternation.

The red knight looked over the rough, stone walls and the candlesticks embedded thereon. He glanced over the various tapestries and rugs. Nothing was out of place. The tables also looked fine, as did the throne itself...

His heart melted a little as Lyn fell under his watchful eye. Tender emotion welled up in his chest at the sight of her, and he permitted the barest hint of a smile to play upon his lips. He loved her.

Realization that she was being watched settled upon Lyn, prompting her to look up and catch her friend's gaze. Their eyes locked.

As he stared into the depths of her green eyes, losing himself in their marvelous depths and warmth, Kent fell in love with his Lady all over again. She had a heart and courage that few could match, which was carefully balanced by her kindness and compassion. He loved everything about her. She meant the world to him.

The rattling of a door's opening brought the two back to reality. Kent regretfully tore his eyes away from the lady that he loved and became the professional soldier that he was now required to be. He carefully schooled his features to their customary somber expression. He had to remember his place, and not stray from it.

It was frustrating that society demanded that they leave their feelings behind and play out their assigned roles. The red knight of Caelin looked forward to the day when they could leave society behind. He had already decided to return to the plains with Lyn, and he was certain that he could learn to live anywhere so long as she was also there.

But none of this told him what was wrong with the present situation.

Perhaps, if his eyes were failing to tell him the problem, then it was not something that could be seen. It was probable, often one sense could find something that the others failed to indicate. He had nothing to lose, he might as well try it.

Although he retained his watchfulness, he devoted a small measure of his attention to the sounds that filled the air. Maybe his hearing would explain what his eyes could not.

The customary clatter of boots upon stone was normal, as was the rustling and bustle caused by the servant's work. He could hear the noises, animals and conversations of the outside world penetrating through the castle's windows, but those were not cause for concern.

Kent frowned. Maybe his instinct was wrong?

No, his instinct had saved him more times than not. He needed to listen to it.

The red knight of Caelin took a deep breath in an effort to calm his nerves. Exercising proper military discipline, the red-haired knight was careful to keep his mouth closed and his intake shallow as he breathed through his nostrils. He could not be seen giving any indication that anything was amiss.

Two seconds later, he realized what was bothering him.

Their situation smelled wrong. Lyn smelled wrong.

It was a rather strange thought and a realization that prompted Kent to feel awkward. A blush threatened to spill upon his cheeks, forcing him to devote several precious seconds to combating that potentially embarrassing development. Once he had regained control of his composure, and sternly reminded himself that there was nothing wrong with noticing such things about the woman he loved, the red-haired man steadied himself and began analyzing the situation in detail.

As bewildering as it seemed, the cause of his concern was, in fact, the way Lyn smelled. During their time together during the Black Fang Wars he had come accustomed to certain things about his comrades and fellow warriors, so much so that it had become an identifying part of them. He had become used to the presence of the aforementioned things. Now that they were back under formal etiquette, he found himself missing those identifying idiosyncrasies.

Lyn's scent was one of them.

It was very odd. As crude as it sounded, he'd never paid the slightest bit of attention to the way that she smelled before, and yet now that her scent had changed, he could identify what was missing without a moment's hesitation. The Lyn of the Black Fang Wars carried the subdued scent of steel and iron, a byproduct of their constantly warring state, along with a hint of the earth, and a dash of the wind itself. Blended among those other features had been a quiet, yet pervasive, bitter sweetness- a telltale leftover from the many vulneraries they used.

It had been a strange mixture of odors that had followed Lyn about as surely as any fancy perfume could. He had come to expect it of her, and somehow it had become a fairly dear scent to him- perhaps it was the sweetest thing he had ever breathed.

As he thought about it, Kent realized that he had come to identify that scent as the perfume of his love's presence, much the same way that a strong odor would always serve to trigger a memory. The absence of such a smell was now putting him off-balance.

He felt like a schoolboy for worrying over such things- a disobedient schoolboy who should be chastened for neglecting his studies to worry over his first puppy love. He quickly shook his head and ignored his feelings of unease. He was in love with Lyn, had admitted it, and she accepted it. There was no harm in his thoughts.

Still... he couldn't help but wonder...

The red knight of Caelin slowly, in an attempt to preserve some amount of his dignity, inhaled a deep breath and took careful attention to examine the many smells that tickled his nostrils. What did Lyn smell like now?

Never had he experienced such a contrast before.

The scent of his Lady before him was clean... sterile... and lacked any real sense of depth. There was a hint of some spice or perfume, but it was so slight as to be barely noticeable. There was no real way to identify her presence based upon her scent.

It was one of the most depressing things that Kent had ever experienced. Now he fully understood Lyn's frustration. Never had her two lives been as real to him as they were at this moment. Intellectually, he had always known that Lyn of the Lorca had led a very different life than Lady Lyndis, the Noble Lady of Caelin. Now he was brought down to the stark contrast between those two lives- and just what those differences meant to her.

Their scents told it all.

Lyn of the Lorca was a woman who loved the land that sustained her, and enjoyed the freedom that the plains brought. Her life was simple, dealing with little more than any day-to-day needs. She was happy there. This was, perhaps, the true Lyn- the Lyn who smelled of the soil and the wind.

Lyndis of Caelin was a very different person. She was called upon to be a person that was foreign to her; to attempt to fit into a society that she knew nothing about, to deal with customs and manners that meant nothing to her. Her attempts to fit into those roles left her with nothing, as evidenced by the sterility of her present scent.

Was it any wonder that she preferred her original name, Lyn, above that of her title? Now he knew just why she had balked at his initial attempts to love her. To her, pursuing a sterile title, and not the woman who laid beneath.

Kent was certain that Lyn loved her grandfather and enjoyed spending time with him; but it was the rest of this life that did not suit her. She might have been able to fit into this world after much effort and practice, but as it stood now her heart was on the plains and it was there that she would return.

For the first time, the red knight of Caelin caught a hint, a glimpse, of the enormity of the struggles that Lyn had faced. Again, intellectually, he had known them to be there, but only now were they becoming real to him. Caelin exercised marginal acceptance of her while Lycia as a whole frowned upon her presence. Trying to fit into this mold must have been frustrating beyond degree.

It made him want to catch her up in her arms and protect her from the rest of the world. He had been given the title 'The Crimson Shield' upon his promotion some time back, and now he wished that he could, indeed, shield her from the rest of the world who despised her presence. He wanted to spare her that pain and hardship.

Unfortunately, he could not. Not at this point where society and rules dictated that he had to remain on the sidelines, where he could do nothing but wait and watch. He was supposed to remain alert and silent, a presence but not a participant. Whatever Lyn may have to face in this meeting, she would have to do so without his intervention. His chest ached over his helplessness, but there was nothing he could do.

But eventually. that would change, Kent vowed silently. When affairs were put in order and Ostia had completed its takeover of Caelin, he would see Lyn back to the land that she loved- to the life that suited her. She would be free to leave Lyndis behind and to assume the mantle of Lyn again. She could once again wear the scent of the earth, the wind, and the toil of her life without fear of repercussion; if she would have him, he would be by her side and do his utmost to make her happy.

_-Soon, Lyn.-_ The red knight promised his love. -_Very soon we'll leave this place, and return to the land of Sacea... just hold on a little longer...-_

And somehow, Kent was certain that she would.

_**End**_

A.N.: Just a quick heads-up, unless something changes, the final sense isn't going to be as fluffy as the last four pieces have been. It will probably be more of a tragedy than anything else.


	5. Taste

**_Begin_**

Tears tasted like memories: bitter.

That was the single thought on his mind. It was the only thought on his mind. If he allowed any other thought into his mind, it would be a memory. It would be bitter. He was tired of bitterness. He wanted to move past it.

He focused his attention on maintaining that thought. He set his muscles to stabbing at the ground beneath his feet. He concentrated on his job of turning over another spadeful of earth, then on dumping it to one side. His mound of earth grew another few inches.

He blinked, ignored the moisture burning in his eyes, and tried to continue his task.

It was impossible to ignore the salty bitterness that raced down his cheek and entered his mouth. The taste washed over his tongue. His focus scattered. He cursed himself, but was unable to suppress the recollection that forced itself upon his mind.

Their first meal together. She had prepared a steak, just for him, along with a cooked vegetable spread. At first he had simply taken a bite to satisfy her request. Then he'd stayed to enjoy the feast after her work had exploded across his tongue. The steak was tender. The seasoning perfect… The company stellar.

He slammed the floodgates shut, trying to hold the tide of saltwater at bay. Tears leaked past his eyelids and drew lines down his cheeks anyway. He didn't want to remember. It was too bitter.

He couldn't help but remember.

It all came back to him. The pleasant curve of her face. The scent of her hair. The warmness of her cheeks. The sound of her voice… the taste of her lips. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to experience it all over again.

But it was not to be. It never would be again.

She had caught him with a meal, then tamed him with her company. She had touched a part of him that had laid buried for years. A part that he had denied still existed. For a fleeting moment, he had allowed himself to hope for a future.

But not now. Never again. It was not to be.

More tears flowed. More salt invaded his mouth. More memories pressed against his mind.

He cried. He wept. He tasted the bitterness of recollection. He grieved.

He calmed. He moved on. He continued his task.

Eventually, he finished. No, not finished. His work had just begun.

He didn't want to continue. He wanted to stop now. He was tired of this bitter experience. He wanted nothing more than to go back, and experience the sweetness of their time together once more.

That was impossible. He forced himself on.

His stomach turned. His throat became sour. He ignored the quiver of his hands.

His actions were reversed. Stab the mound of dirt. Gather a shovelful. Pour it into the hole. Ignore the pain of lost memories.

At length. He finished.

No one would ever know. The thought burned against his brain, bringing more sorrow and grief. She had fallen here, and she was to be forgotten here. No one would know of her sacrifice. She had died that he might live. Her grave would go unmarked. Unremembered.

No. He would remember. He would not forget. No matter how bitter the memory, no matter how sour the pain. He would not forget her. She was too special for that. He could not ignore what she had done for him.

With that silent vow. He stepped back, surveying his handiwork and offering one final prayer for the peace of her soul.

Then, he turned and left.

This was his curse. He would live with this bitterness. He would remember her for as long as he lived.

He was Raven. He would not forget Rebecca.

**_End_**

A.N.: Short, but sweet. I was really afraid to try and lengthen this, so I left it as it was. I realize its been a while, but out of nowhere I got the drive to finish this, and so I figured that I might as well.

I may actually have the next book _Phoenix of Pharae_ up in the next month or so, but I can't promise anything.


End file.
